


Tied up with a Bow

by keyflight790



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aural Kink, Cuffs, Dirty Talk, Light Bondage, M/M, Merry Christmas, Praise, Spanking, Spreader Bars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-01-18 19:56:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21282404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keyflight790/pseuds/keyflight790
Summary: Harry had the best gift in the world. Better than 36 beautifully wrapped boxes.All he needed was a bow.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 13
Kudos: 240
Collections: Harry/Draco Owlpost 2019





	Tied up with a Bow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maraudersaffair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersaffair/gifts).

> MaraudersAffair, I wanted to write all of your prompts. I started on three, in fact. They were all just so tempting! In the end, I chose this one: All Draco wants for Christmas is to be tied up by Harry ;D. 
> 
> Thank you for all that you do for the fandom, and I really hope you like this fic!! I know Harry and Draco enjoyed it quite a bit. 
> 
> Thanks to the mods for putting on such an incredible fest, it is by far my favourite of the year! Happy Holidays!

Presents didn’t matter to Draco. He had received enough meaningless trinkets and bobbles to last him a lifetime. He yearned to be loved by someone who knew him, not just his name or his riches, or his upbringing. Someone that knew where every scar came from, what every smirk meant. How difficult it was for Draco to be raw and open and not in control.

Christmas had never been easy for Harry. As a child, it had just meant waking up early to begin breakfast, a large feast to which he was never invited. Forced to watch Duddy-kins count his gifts and hope that it was at least one more than last year. Sort through the laundry and if he was lucky, at the end of the day he’d be given a bin with a few pairs of socks without holes and some ill-fitting trousers. 

But now, Harry had the best gift in the world. Better than 36 beautifully wrapped boxes. 

All he needed was a bow.

For their first Christmas together, they vowed not to do presents at all, but to give each other something only they could unwrap. 

For Harry, that gift was Draco, soft and gentle, his walls down. 

Draco’s slender ankles each held their own personal bow, the knot facing forward, the red tails dangling on either side of his foot. A spreader bar held them apart nicely, the black a stark contrast from the satin red. Two more bindings circled his wrists, knotting him firmly to the bedpost. Draco was splayed, naked and vulnerable, his eyes wide and wanton as he stared at his boyfriend. 

Draco was willingly at Harry’s mercy, and Harry couldn’t wait to take him apart. 

“You look so beautiful like this, love.” Harry licked his lips as he studied Draco’s body, starting with the gentle curve of his neck, to his soft chest, to the way his stomach dipped down as he shifted his hips left and right at Harry’s praise. Harry smiled at the tiny silver ball that jutted out of Draco’s arse, a plug that had kept him open and desperate all day. 

Harry had also been whispering dirty thoughts into his ear all throughout breakfast at the Burrow, making Draco simply frantic for it by the time they returned home.

_ You’re going to look so lovely in Gryffindor red. _

_ This treacle tart has nothing on how you taste. _

_ I can’t wait to fill your pretty little hole. _

Part of Harry wanted to pull out the silver plug and slide right into his partner, but he could be patient when he wanted to be. And he wanted to savour this experience from top to bottom.

He was still fully clothed, wearing his annual Weasley knitted jumper and jeans, his feet still in his black dragonhide boots. Those boots made Draco crazy sometimes, the way they’d track in dirt and mud from practice, but Harry knew he secretly loved seeing Harry in his Falmouth Falcons jersey. It reminded Draco of the days they’d both flew around the pitch, chasing each other under the guise of chasing the snitch. 

Harry took his time, propping his boots up one at a time on their white satin comforter, unlacing them slowly. Any other day, Draco would scold him for dirtying their linens, but today, Draco could only stare, his mouth parted, hands cuffed behind his head.

He slid his feet out of the black shoes, and pulled off his socks with little grandeur, but spent an entire minute unbuckling his belt. He knew how much Draco enjoyed how the soft leather sounded unthreading through each of the belt loops on his trousers. 

Pulling his jumper over his head, Harry unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his chest slowly. He licked his lips, admiring how Draco’s cock was definitely taking interest in his little strip show. Harry couldn’t wait to take his hardened length into his mouth, to savour the taste of Draco’s saltiness after a day of heavy sweets. However, there was something he needed to take care of first, before he could dine on such delicacies. 

Draco’s eyes were blown wide and trained on Harry, but more so on Harry’s belt clinched in his hand. It was difficult on the best of days for Draco to let his guard down, to get out of his head, so Harry usually had to use something blunt and strong to tear Draco from his thoughts.

He climbed up on the bed, his naked body pressed along Draco’s, their burgeoning erections touching in heat. Draco let out a tiny moan as Harry kissed him on his forehead, his cheek, his throat. He nipped behind his earlobe, before dragging his mouth to Draco’s. 

They kissed in a way Harry had been desperate to do since he had worked Draco’s plug in that morning. Tongues and teeth, passion and heat coursing through each other. Draco’s mouth smelled of peppermint. Harry thought back to that afternoon, the way Draco was licking a red-striped candy cane, letting the stick dive deep down his throat before he pulled it out, all the redness licked off the shaft. 

It drove Harry crazy, the things Draco could do with his mouth. But tonight wasn’t about Harry’s pleasure. It was about giving Draco a present he never had: unconditional love for who he was.

And gods, did Harry love Draco. Their beginning had been messy; threats that turned to hexes that turned to rolling around on the floor, fists out. That had led to frottage, to late night secret wanks, to getting caught by a mortified Ron. 

Then, the good stuff. Hand holding and kissing under the stars. Dinners out in public, with friends, family. Moving in together, clearing shelves and drawers. Harry getting used to the comfort of expensive Italian sheets and soft goose feather pillows. One that was rested under Draco’s head, the other under his delicious bum.

“Gorgeous, love,” Harry murmured, as he crawled onto the bed. He kissed Draco once, full on the lips, and then again because once was never enough.

“Not so bad yourself,” Draco smirked, pulling slightly at his restraints. Harry knew just how much Draco loved to thread his fingers through Harry’s mess of hair, and the fact that he couldn’t, that for the rest of the evening he was at Harry’s mercy, was surely frustrating him.

It made Harry hard. His cock throbbed just thinking about Draco, shields down and arse up and Harry took his time unwrapping his most precious gift in the world. 

Harry grinned, before nipping at his nose, and then settled himself between Draco’s thighs. He toyed with the plug nestled between Draco’s cheeks, pulling it out and twisting it back in, listening to the gorgeous sounds of Draco’s sighs.

“What do you want?” Harry asked, even though he knew. They’d been planning this scene since the beginning of December, but Harry wanted to check.

He wanted to see if the walls were still up.

“Your cock, Potter. Just give it to me already.”

Fucking strong, sturdy walls.

“Not yet,” Harry chided. Instead of pulling out the silver plug and replacing it with his length, Harry wrapped his hand around the metal bar separating Draco’s delicate ankles. He lifted the bar, and Draco’s legs along with it, high over his head so that the pads of his feet were barely touching the headboard, hovering right above his eyesight.

“Fuck you,” Draco spat, and that’s when Harry began to hit. His palm landed flat on Draco’s arse, one side and then the other. He repeated the pattern, ignoring Draco’s whines, until Draco’s arse was deliciously pink.

Harry wondered if he could make his skin as red as the ribbon knotted around his wrists. Draco hadn’t safeworded yet, but this also hasn’t been part of their discussed plan. Still, a good spanking was often necessary to make Draco focus on Harry and get out of his own head.

“What do you want?” Harry asked again, his eyes focused on grey.

“Ughhh, fucking prick, what do you think?” Draco groaned, canting his hips upward. His cock rubbed uselessly against his thighs, and Harry chuckled.

He had always enjoyed the snarky Draco that teased him in school. Most of the time, Harry enjoyed teasing back, bantering with his partner.

But tonight, Harry was craving a soft, open Draco. They’d get there, and he knew how.

“I think you need a proper spanking.” Harry reached for his belt and let go of Draco’s spreader bar, letting his feet drop back down to the mattress. 

Draco groaned, but Harry saw a flash of excitement before he spelled his bindings to loosen, and flipped him face-forward on the mattress.

“Fifteen with my belt, love,” Harry said, his voice already shaking with lust. “If you can take that, maybe you’ll get my cock.”

Harry knew he could take it. Draco had taken more than three times that many lashes before, and had come almost instantly after, while riding Harry’s face.

“Fuck,” Draco moaned, his voice muffled in those expensive pillows he insisted on. Harry breathed in deep, and folded his belt in half, making sure the buckle was secure in his palm.

He started snapping his wrist, the leather of his belt slapping beautifully across Draco’s backside. Harry counted in his head, one, two, three, four. 

“So good, darling,” Harry praised when his belt lashed out for the fifth time. Draco’s arse was darkening, and Harry knew he must be biting his lip in order to hide his moans of pleasure.

Harry continued, six, seven, eight, and on the ninth time, Draco finally let out a cry, his hips bucking off the mattress as he tried to swerve from Harry’s lashes. 

“A few more, love. Want to count them for me?”

Draco didn’t move, his hands gripping onto the silk that cinched him to the headboard. Harry let the leather crash down across his tender flesh once more, and he heard a muffled-

“Ten.”

“Good boy, Draco. Five more, okay?”

Harry heard a muffled sound, and snapped the leather again over Draco’s arse.

“Eleven,” Draco moaned. He was up on his knees now, trying to hide his raw skin from Harry’s belt. Harry rubbed his back, tracing the hills and valleys of his spine before leaning forward.

“Your arse is so red, love. As red as the ribbon, as red as my heart. I’m so proud of you, we’re almost there.”

Draco nodded into the feather pillow, and Harry didn’t drag out the remaining strikes.

“Twelve, augh, thirteen, fourteen, fuck, fifteen,” Draco gasped as Harry snapped his wrists, watching with desire as Draco’s arse turned crimson. After the final snap, Harry released Draco’s bindings across his wrists and ankles, and pulled him into his arms. 

“So good,” Harry whispered into Draco’s ear as Draco panted into his shoulder. “So beautiful, so kind and true and wonderful for me.”

He wrapped his arms tightly around Draco’s waist, holding him until his breathing slowed.

“What do you want, love?” Harry asked again, and this time he knew he’d get the response he was hoping for.

“You,” Draco released in a low moan. “Always you.”

“Then that is what you shall have,” Harry said, before kissing Draco’s neck, his throat, the soft and tender spot behind his ear. Still holding him tight in his lap, Harry reached down and gently removed Draco’s plug, tossing it on the floor. 

He quickly replaced the silver with his fingers, just one, and adding another as Draco’s moans grew louder. Harry conjured a bit more lubricant, slathering it over his cock, then rested his length in between Draco’s cheeks.

“I love you so much, Draco,” Harry murmured into Draco’s ear as he rested his entire body along Draco’s spine. Their heads were both pointed towards the headboard, the ribbon dangling as a reminder of their love, of their shared pleasure.

Draco’s face was still squashed into the pillow, and Harry’s rested in the crux of his shoulder.

“Going to fuck you now.” Harry pushed up onto his knees, the tip of his cock pressed against Draco’s needy hole.

“Please, please,” Draco lifted his head and cried, canting his arse upward into Harry’s body. 

The plug had prepared him, but Harry still had a moment of difficulty pushing his length past Draco’s outer rim. He knew his arse was tender, that every touch of his skin against Draco’s would feel like fire, so Harry tried to be gentle as he thrust into his boyfriends core.

“Oh, fuck Draco, you’re so tight,” Harry moaned as Draco’s needy walls clenched around his cock. He wrapped his ankles around Draco’s, holding his hips down and his legs apart as he pounded into him, over and over again.

Harry loved when Draco was like this, his head craned to meet Harry, his eyes open and wide and soft, his lips parted and wet. He looked like an angel, instead of the snarky devil Harry was pleased to love most of the day. 

This was the side of Draco only he got to see, and he treasured every moment.

He placed a soft and tender kiss on Draco’s lips, canting his hips to fill Draco over and over again. Draco let out a guttural moan, and faced forward, resting his head on his unknotted arms as Harry thrust in and out at a slow syncopation.

Harry could tell Draco was dropping into subspace, and wanted to make him feel grounded and safe, so he wrapped a calming hand around Draco’s throat, holding him still and helpless once more against Harry’s ministrations. Without that, Harry risked that Draco would yearn for control once more, unbound and able to manipulate his movements.

Instead of vying for control, Draco sunk deeper into Harry’s touch, his eyes closing and his lips open in a silent gasp. 

Harry kissed his temple, his cheek, and pressed his body weight into Draco’s willing body as he fucked him from behind. Draco began to pant, heading towards his peak, and Harry didn’t want to let his open, gasping mouth go to waste.

He shoved two fingers down Draco’s throat, fucking them into his mouth as he rutted into his arse. Draco sucked them in, his tongue whirling around Harry’s hand as he opened his throat to the intrusion. Harry was once again reminded of the candy cane, thrusting deep between Draco’s lips, with the peppermint stripes removed in the most obscene way. 

“Whose hole is this?” Harry moaned, not sure if he meant his mouth or his arse, and not caring either way.

“It’s yours,” Draco cried around Harry’s fingers. He was so vulnerable, and lost, and soft, and it made Harry want to cry.

“Whose?” he commanded, just wanting to hear that sweet song of Draco’s voice again.

“Yours!”

Harry thrust harder, faster. “Do you love this?” He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it. Draco so often answered with snark and sarcasm that Harry yearned for the truth. He pulled out his fingers, wrapping them back around Draco’s throat so that every word could be heard.

“Fuck, yes, please yes, I love it.” 

He beamed, his entire being melding into Draco’s form. It was so much, too much, and Harry could hardly contain his excitement. 

“Oh, fuck, love, I’m going to,” Draco cried as Harry pulled out and slammed back into his core. 

“Come with me,” Harry groaned, his mouth so close to Draco’s ear. He pulled out again, the tip of his cock barely breaching Draco’s needy hole. He was so close as well, had been yearning for this moment all day while he was opening presents with the Weasleys, helping Molly pass out the Christmas pies. And finally, they were here, raw and open for each other, and Harry couldn’t wait one more minute to show his love how much he was adored.

“Yes, fuck,” Draco cried, as Harry drove back in, his cock welcome as Draco clenched around him. It was like coming home, where he felt safe, and loved and needed and adored.

Harry could feel his chest flushing as he pounded into Draco, his entire being driving them both to their peaks. He wanted to topple over, but he wanted his love to crest first, full of Harry’s desire. Harry lifted Draco to his knees, and pummeled into him, thrust after thrust as he wrapped his hand around Draco’s needy cock.

Draco let out a scream, his walls tightening around Harry’s need in desperation as he finally released, his orgasm coating the skin of Harry’s coarse hands. Mewls of ‘Harry’ and ‘fuck’ and ‘yes,’ and _’love’_ escaped Draco’s throat, and it was the last word that sent Harry over the edge.

Harry emptied himself into Draco, while moans escaped his throat and his fingers gripped into his sides, and he panted against Draco’s spine, and he felt open, and warm and loved, so loved.

“You’re the best present I’ve ever had,” Harry panted into Draco’s ear as he cleaned them up and pulled the blankets over their naked bodies.

“Damn right I am,” Draco snarked, and while his walls were back up so soon, Harry knew they were thinner, lighter. That they would come down easier, any time that Harry wanted. 

“Happy Christmas, Potter,” Draco sighed, as he nestled against Harry’s chest.

“Happy Christmas, Malfoy,” Harry breathed, before kissing the crown of his boyfriend’s head, and snuggling in for the night. For it had been the best Christmas he could ever ask for. 


End file.
